


Freckles

by tatooedlaura



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 02:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: those stakeouts can be really really boring ...





	Freckles

Sitting in a car for hours on end was nothing for him. He’d happily cruise the endless highway, Scully at his side, chasing nameless idiots who bought too much fertilizer with not enough permits. He would stay up late, eat junk food, talk nonsense, pee on the side of the road, try not to laugh while Scully peed on the side of the road …

But he could not tolerate, after years and years of this, being contained quietly to a vehicle while on a stakeout.

Scully bought him crosswords and mysteries, brownies and travel games, ice tea and tacos but in the end, he was a fucking fidgety mess of t-shirt and jeans; a leg-jiggling, wheel-kneeding, whining little pain in the God-damned ass.

Then he found a stray pen, ballpoint, blue, Bic, basic ‘buy a thousand, lose a thousand, borrow and never return’ average writing utensil.

And she was asleep.

Dash clock glowing 1:27am, she slept with head tilted and arms on the rests. It wasn’t stuffy in the car, the windows were cracked at least, but she was down to very short shirt sleeves and the sight of that much bare Scully in one place with no one to stop his greedy looks, made him crazy.

Stupid, actually, but whatever, it was late and he was untethered to decorum.

Freckles.

Lots of freckles.

He adored her freckles possibly more than her knees and that one, beautiful pantsless day they spent on his couch. He’d think about that one later, possibly and probably around 2:15 or so but first, he had a glorious mission involving the pigmented perfection sprinkled across her limbs.

He drew constellations on her.

He connected dot one to freckle two to oval splotch three and soon, Orion appeared near the rounded curve of her joint.

He was a fucking goner at this point, tracing the Southern Cross next, followed by Gemini, the Big Dipper and in a feat that made him giggle in glee, he found Virgo.

Caught up in his work, he, without sensical thought to death and dismemberment, shifted carefully, leaning over to reach her other arm. To the rest of the world, had they been peaking in the vehicle, would have thought he was stealing a kiss in the inky blackness of night.

She opened her eyes instead, oddly not as shocked at his position as she should be.

“Mulder.”

Red-handed, pen in digital poised to trace Leo on her second still-blank canvas, he looked up slowly, mouth smiling crooked, tongue out in concentration …

Seriously, if an apology didn’t happen in the next three seconds, she was going to poke his eye out and she didn’t even know what he’d done yet.

“You totally have a Casseiopia on your cheek. Do you mind?”

An hour later, the relief team showed up to find Mulder with a grin and a black-eye and Scully drawn on, two arms full of weird shapes and a flattened ‘W’ on her right cheekbone.


End file.
